RADIO SPEC SCRIPT SAMPLES

SUPARA: BOOK 1

 

Written By

Joshua Spaw

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PROPERTY OF SLAMFIST MEDIA

www.slamfistmedia.com

slamfistmedia@gmail.com

(513) 225-2758

Draft: 4/29/2013

 

Scene One: Int. Hallway – Police Station – Evening

MUSIC CUT SCENE MUSIC.

DETECTIVE DARIO RICKMAN: (VOICEOVER) It has been 22 hours since the attacks. 92 known victims, 107 injured, 34 of those are now amputees, (PAUSE) and we have 19 suspects in custody with absolutely zero leads. Hundreds of eye witnesses, thousands of devices all catching the same action from various angles and locations, (PAUSE) and it seems no one can pay any lip service otherwise. The biggest attack on American soil since the War of 64’ and we have next to no clue who the enemy is or if they’re going to strike again. The U.S. Military have blocked off the three locations where the attacks have occurred and I haven’t slept in 2 days. The Chief is tryin’ to tell me to get some rest but I have one more person I need to speak to… and that would be Miss Ellen Eckhart. I await orders before entering the interrogation room.

SOUND: JOGGING FOOTSTEPS TOWARDS MIC.

OFFICER JAMES TULLY: Here’s that file, Detective.

RICKMAN: Thanks Tully.

SOUND: PAPEP FLIPPING.

TULLY You know, you were cleared to go home like… yesterday. You have to get out of here some point, sir. Sharla must worried si--

RICKMAN: (TOP) I know, but I’ve had this chick on my radar for quite some time. Something just doesn’t feel right about it. This isn’t her kind of game… and more importantly… she never gets caught. Too easy.

TULLY: Well the Chief said make it quick. They have one of those suits… uhh (PAPER FLIPPING SOUND)… Elijah Watson to come talk to her. He’s a Power, so… no time to play dibs.

RICKMAN: I know’em, but for the next 10 minutes, I’m still heading up this case and this happened in my city so… fuck the Feds; I ain’t waitin. (FOOTSTEPS)

RICKMAN: (VOICEOVER) Tully looks closely at the monitor where Eckhart is bound to her chair.

TULLY (SIGH) Face paint, throwing stars, and a black and purple cat-suit. You know how to pick’em, Rickman.

RICKMAN: Yeah- yeah. Well, I’m goin’ in….

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

Let me know if anything changes.

TULLY: Yes sir.

Scene One: Int. Interrogation Room – Evening

SOUND DOOR CLOSES.

RICKMAN: (VOICEOVER) Eckhart sits back in her chair looking quite relaxed. The blues must have been too busy to even get wipe off her signature geisha-like face paint… though some of it has sweated off onto her suit. I am sure to stand back out of the light so she only caught my silhouette from the door. Criminals like her; they tend to carry conversations on their own before I get a word in edgewise. Sometimes it’s entertaining… sometimes.

ELLEN ECKHART: You’re not Watson. (PAUSE) Are you just going to stand back there officer? I’ve been sitting here for so long now sir and well… it’s getting kind of lonely.

RICKMAN: I know who you are.

ECKHART: Oh a fan? I’m sorry… it’s kind of a bad time see, I’ve been handcuffed to a chair and… my nose it super itchy… you understand, right?

RICKMAN: (VOICEOVER) Eckhart is a cyber-criminal known as Sync. Some think of her as the new-age Robin Hood. She’s like me, a power… but her ability is that she can touch any networked device and create, manipulate, and purge any electronic data. Perfect skillset for her line of work.

What’re you doing here?

ECKHART: Me? Here? Well, I was arrested for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I came in with the travelling circus.

RICKMAN: You’re wanted for your involvement in over 2 dozen robberies, assaulting an officer of the law, at least 3 counts of arson, countless cases of identity theft, falsifying federal information, tampering with evidence, and you’re also responsible for the most notorious illegal bank transfer in US history. You’re considered a bonafide cyber-terrorist. This is just half of what we know…

(VOICEOVER) I throw her file on the table and it spreads out in front of her.

SOUND: FILE/PAPER HITTING A METAL TABLE.

RICKMAN: … because you have the incredible ability to cover your tracks and wipe all known evidence of your involvement electronically. So I’m going to ask this again; what’re you doing here, Sync? Or should I just call you, Eckhart?

ECKHART: My, my. You’re already my favourite person ever. Must have gone through a lot of trouble just digging this much info about me. So if you’re not Watson, you must be… Detective D.A. Rickman.

RICKMAN: (VOICEOVER) I step out from the darkness… her smile increases.

ECKHART: Truly an honor.

RICKMAN: Oh so you’ve heard of me?

ECKHART: Oh stuff, and things… The knowledge is mutual. You’re kind of an interesting guy, you know?

RICKMAN: Right. Color me unconvinced.

ECKHART: Really? (SIGH) You’re a 6 foot 5 hulking black man, weighing in about 272 pounds of meat-headedness with an USV degree in criminal justice. You’re THE quintessential upright citizen with the most celebrated but unappreciated record while being head the Power Related Crimes Unit in the most budget wasteful police stations in the Valley. How do I know you, you ask? Because I’ve let you know me.

RICKMAN: Huh. Right… public records.

ECKHART: You do realize I can dig further right? Voted most likely to succeed from South Lincoln High School even though you turned down 3 major full ride scholarships just because you thought, ‘Football really is something that defines who I want to be.’ Very admirable, might I add. What about Sasha, Sophia, and Sharlene? By the way, if you haven’t… you really ought to call that woman back. She seems super worried.

RICKMAN: What the fu--?

ECKHART: (TOP) Now before you finish that inevitable but rude question; I know you must feel invaded and somewhat confused…

RICKMAN: (VOICEOVER) She leans forward and her smile is long gone.

ECKHART Cont: but we’re actually running a tad bit behind here.

RICKMAN: Alright, I don’t what the fuck your game is but it’s not gonna work. So you’ve done your homework; that doesn’t change the situation.

ECKHART: No, it only acknowledges it. Change is yet another inevitability.

RICKMAN: Like what, another attack?

ECKHART: You can say that but I’m not your problem. At least not primarily.

RICKMAN: So you have a line in on who’s pulling the strings?

ECKHART: Look, there is nothing I can tell you here. Why? It’s not safe and I’m not overly fond with anyone wielding a badge. Let alone a building full of them. I want to help. Honestly I do, but I’m not the bad guy here. The bad is coming, and it’ll be here very soon.

RICKMAN: Here? At the station?

ECKHART: I… can’t say it any simpler? Yes. Station. And soon.

RICKMAN: (VOICEOVER) I pick up radio.

Officer Tully, come in.

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS. DEAD AIR.

ECKHART: Well, that’s… that’s not going to work.

RICKMAN: Tully!

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS. DEAD AIR.

RICKMAN: Fuck! Sync, what did you do?

ECKHART: See it’s kind of a funny story but… you know how when you’re first arrested… they bring you in and you know… everything was kind of hectic. There were pictures!

RICKMAN: Get to the point!

ECKHART: The electronic finger print scanner.

RICKMAN: You… (SIGH) you’ve uploaded a virus.

ECKHART: Technically, yes. So far, I’ve only jammed police controlled radio signals, took control of your face/voice recognition software, and accessed your lock down mode in case of an emergency in which I assure you is quite imminent.

RICKMAN: So if I were to get up and run to the door?

ECKHART: I could easily say a phrase which would lock down every door in this wing of the station. I couldn’t foresee which room I would end up in so--

RICKMAN: (TOP) So you’re brilliant plan is holding the station ransom until I let you go?

ECKHART: Oh no. (CHUCKLES) I just don’t trust your security system. See, I have some information; more than one could say, about what really happened yesterday. And I know for fact, that when I was snooping around… I slipped. Got caught. And I also know, that when Watson or… in this case, you… would request my record being sent across the wire… being that my name is attached to it… it would eventually get picked up by the ones who seek to destroy their leak; I.E. ME! So I uploaded a failsafe. Sue me.

RICKMAN: You’re insane. Why wouldn’t just leave an anonymous tip?

ECKHART: Questionable as that may be--

RICKMAN: (TOP)(STERN WHISPER) Regardless of the power you think you have over me and mine; you’re not leaving this faculty on my watch.

SOUND: ALARM SOUND (CONTINUOUS)

RICKMAN: God damn it; you said you had to say a phrase!

ECKHART: Whoa, this wasn’t me, asshole!

RICKMAN: Bullshit!

SOUND: AIR COMPRESSED LOCKS ON DOOR.

RICKMAN: No… no-no-no-no-no! (PULLS ON LOCKED DOOR) Fuck! Open it up!

ECKHART: I can’t! Once lock down is triggered, it’s impossible to open it remotely.

SOUND: SMALL EXPLOSION.

ECKHART: They’re here! Dying isn’t a part of the plan, Detective!

RICKMAN: (VOICEOVER) An explosion shook the foundation around us; the lights began to flicker as bits of debris chipped from the ceiling above us. Sync was right, we’re under attack.

Alright genius, what’s the plan? You can’t even open the damn door.

ECKHART: Au contraire. I said I couldn’t open it remotely… but you’re going to have to uncuff me officer.

RICKMAN: Shit… if you try to run away…

ECKHART: I won’t. You can even put them back on if that’ll make you feel better…

RICKMAN: (VOICEOVER) I’m going to regret this. As I approach her, Sync smirks, wiggles her shoulders, and lays two pairs of handcuffs on the table.

ECKHART: … but I don’t know how much good that’ll do ya.

RICKMAN: So, you could have escaped at any time?

(VOICEOVER) She says nothing and just walks right by me. She webs both of her hands, just the fingertips ever so slightly on the door. It’s strange. I guess this is how she does it. Criminal at large for more than 2 years and here she is leading the way.

ECKHART: Whelp, the server is damaged!

RICKMAN: So? What does that mean for us?

SOUND: MACHINE GUN FIRE. (OFF AND ON)

ECKHART: I guess it means I need to hurry.

RICKMAN: Hurrying would be good.

SOUND: AIR LOCKS DECOMPRESS. ALARM STOPS.

ECKHART: Got it! Let’s get out of here.

RICKMAN: (VOICEOVER) She cautiously opens the door as smoke begins to bellow in. We can’t really make out too much damage but the gunfire sounds like it’s on both sides of the hallway. The lockdown was put in place to keep us in a sealed environment in case of a chemical attack. Maybe unlocking the door wasn’t the greatest idea.

SOUND: SUCTION SOUND & A THUD, THEN BEEPING.

RICKMAN: (VOICEOVER) Before Sync stepped forward, a small flickering device landed a few feet from her… no!

Sync, get back!

ECKHART: Oh… wai—

RICKMAN: (VOICEOVER) I tried to slam the door close.

SOUND: (TOP) BOOM!

SOUND: RINGING SOUND. GUNFIRE SOUNDS DISTANT.

RICKMAN: For a moment, I can’t breathe. (PAUSE) I can’t hear. (PAUSE) But I can tell that I’m sandwiched in between a crazy, unconscious girl and a metal door. Opening the door was a bad--

SOUND: RICKMAN GRUNTING/BENDING OF A METAL DOOR.

RICKMAN: Oh fuck!

(VOICEOVER) Damn thing basically warped across my back. (MORE BENDING). Ah! (BREATHE) Well, she looks OK… besides a few bumps. I can see we made it to the other side of the room. The room is barely recognizable.

MAN #1: Detective.

RICKMAN: Who are you?

(VOICEOVER) Two men dressed in full black, SWAT-like, tech gear with a Roman numeral of a “1” as a badge wielding two fully auto assault weapons step through; what was once the doorway but now is just a mangled mess of metal and concrete.

MAN #1: Detective, we’re going to have to take the girl off your hands.

RICKMAN: All this? Everything… for the girl?

MAN #2: If you choose not to comply, you will be permanently removed from the equation.

RICKMAN: ALL THIS?!

(VOICEOVER) As soon as they raise their rifles, I hurl the warped door at the them.

SOUND: FEW GUN SHOTS, PINGS, AND DOOR WRECKING INTO A HUMAN/RUBBLE.

RICKMAN: (VOICEOVER) The first guy through the hole gets struck so hard that he disappears into the wall on the other side of the hallway. The second guy was able to get off a few rounds before getting distracted long enough for me to charge in.

Ahhh!

(VOICEOVER) I tackle him into a ground where a large beam broke through the floor that’s now sticking through upper right thigh. He doesn’t scream. He tires look for his gun but it nearly snapped in half as soon as I hit him. He punches upward and clawing for my eyes… regardless of the damage already done to him… I continue to hit’em. After striking his abdomen and feeling his frail body crack beneath every punch; he finally goes limp.

RICKMAN: (HEAVILY BREATHING) Oh… fuck. Sync? Sync? (STILL BREATHING)

 

SOUND: RUBBLE AFTER FLESH.

(VOICEOVER) The first man that was struck with the door jumps out, now covered in blood slams a large piece of rebar into chest.

RICKMAN: Ah!

MAN #1: A Power? Interesting. Just enhanced strength?

SOUND: HITS AGAIN, RICKMAN SCREAMS.

MAN #1: Or is there more to you?

SOUND: HITS AGAIN, RICKMAN SCREAMS. DROPS REBAR. UNSHEATHING A BLADE.

MAN #1: Unbreakable skin?

SOUND: STABS RICKMAN, HE SCREAMS IN AGONY.

MAN #1: Damn shame. (PULLS SMALL FIREARM) Damn shame indeed.

RICKMAN: Fuck… you.

MAN #1: Variable removed. (CLICKS GUN)

SOUND: SHUNK… SHUNK… SHUNKSHUNKSHUNKSHUNK.

RICKMAN: (VOICEOVER) Nearly half a dozen glass shards whip by my head into this guy’s face. The one that takes him off his feet sticks him in directly in his left eye.

ECKHART: Miss me, big boy?

RICKMAN: Are you OK?

ECKHART: Funny. Hey, get up. (HELPING DARIO). I know a way out of here.\, but we have to get moving now.

RICKMAN: I have to call this in.

ECKHART: Dario, we can’t trust anyone right now. You either help me, help you. Or go it alone without any sort of guidance. And don’t worry about your wounds… I got that department covered.

RICKMAN: (VOICEOVER) I knew this choice was going to be the first of many regrets that going to change my life; but I have to make a difference. And we have to get out of here.

Alright… lead the way.

ECKHART: (VOICE QUICKLY FADES DOWN A HALLWAY) OK, it’s just into the next wing, there is old storage room that leads into the museum next door. From there we can enter the sewers.

MUSIC & SOUND: DEEP BREATHE, MOVING ABOUT, MUSIC AMPING UP. SQUISHY SOUND.

MAN #2: Ah, damn. He took off with the girl.

MAN #1: (SOUND OF PULLING GLASS OF OUT FLESH, SHUNK) That bitch. (LARGE DISGUSTING SHUNK).

MAN #2: I don’t think that’s going to grow back right.

MAN #1: (SIGH) Call it in.

MAN #2: (ON COM) Operation Geshia has failed. A Detective Rickman aided her sir. He’s a Power. (PAUSE) Sir? Why isn’t he answering?

MAN #1: He’s pissed.

MAN #2: Go to Plan B, sir?

GHOST: Report back to base.

MAN #1: What if Rickman has family? We can try--

GHOST: (TOP) Report back to base, soldier.

MAN #2: OK… but… what’s the new plan, sir?

GHOST: (PAUSE) Me.

END